Fresh Pickled Toads
by Miss Skeeter
Summary: After being falsely accused of sending Harry Potter a singing valentine, Ginny Weasley finds herself in the same predicament. Except this time, it's Draco Malfoy. To clear her reputation, she makes a bargain with a Malfoy and has to handle an angry family
1. Introduction

_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.  
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,  
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord._

Every time I looked at Harry, the word _fresh pickled toad _floated subconsciously in my mind. Sometimes, I had to bite on my lip to stop the words from tumbling out. I couldn't help it; whenever Harry talked to anybody, his eyes would pierce through them. They were very prominently emerald green. For eleven years I have endured with this curse, the curse of the Fresh Picked Toad, as I liked to call it. If I could erase those words, or rather the whole poem, from my consciousness, the urge to utter _fresh pickled toad _whenever I saw Harry Potter would be no longer. But unfortunately, life isn't so simple.

I can take myself back eleven years and remember every detail so vividly you'd be shocked I hadn't stolen a Time-Turner and experienced the whole nightmare again. But nightmares stick with you for a very long time. It was Thursday, one of my favorite days because it meant the weekend was near. Gilderoy Lockhart had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He liked to pin Harry to his side whenever it concerned his fame. I recalled that Malfoy had teased him for always being in the spotlight and taunted me when I defended me. Lockhart liked Valentine's Day also or perhaps Hogwarts did too because pink had vomited across the Great Hall. Pink flowers covered the walls. Heart-shaped confetti fell from the ceiling. I had to shield my breakfast from the showering confetti. My pumpkin juice was not so lucky; by the end of breakfast, hearts floated across its orange waters.

Now, with my blossoming crush on Harry Potter, this was about the most mortifying thing that could've happened to me. As I walked to class with a group of my friends, a dwarf bombarded Harry with a singing valentine. He ripped his bag and was trying to escape when--the words pierced the silence. I'd rather not go into deep detail about the poem. It was the most dreadful poem I've ever heard. Everyone laughed, including me. But then I noticed that Malfoy had picked up a certain diary that I had tried flushing down the toilet. The memory of that nasty diary still haunts me. I stared in horror. Harry managed to steal it back from Malfoy with a Disarming Spell. That made Percy and Malfoy furious because Malfoy whirled around nastily and screamed the words that made my already bad day worse, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine very much!"

Now this was very unfair. I knew many girls harbored secret crushes on Harry Potter, including me. It was wrong for everyone to pinpoint the culprit as me. And somewhere underneath the horrifying embarrassment I was experiencing, I was appalled and frankly offended that _anyone_ thought I had written poetry that bad. Already plagued with worries about Harry and the diary, people did not help matters by taunting me the entire day about sending Harry Potter that atrocious valentine. I remember the same four words I repeated the entire day, "I didn't send it", varying in different tones from weary to furious. Fred and George didn't help matters by singing it obnoxiously when Harry was around, either. I was forced to shoulder the singing valentine for eleven years. By now, everyone had forgotten about it. But there is still the memory lingering the back of my mind now and then. But I was sure that was the only singing valentine that would ever disrupt my life again.


	2. In Which Draco Gets A Singing Valentine

_Dear Ms. Weasley, _

_I am intending to host an extravagant gala in honor of my son's achievements on Valentine's Day. I would like for you to plan this party, for I've heard you're the best in the business. If you accept my inquiry, please owl me back as quickly as possible for us to arrange a meeting. _

_Yours truly,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Narcissa Malfoy had immediately tied the quickly scrawled letter onto the family owl, a fine eagle owl, and opened the window of the manor. She often had afternoon tea with the high society women of the wizarding world, where they discussed topics of interest or in other words, gossiped. Today, Narcissa shared with her fellow companions that she was thinking of hosting yet another party. The women immediately began to talk about one of the most sought-after planners in Britain, Ginny Weasley. Narcissa was surprised; she never hated the Weasleys like her husband, but she underestimated their abilities. It shocked her that their only daughter had managed to throw herself into the whirlwind of socialites. It was then that she wrote a letter to Ginny Weasley.

In one of the nicest blocks of flats in London, Ginny Weasley spotted an owl heading for her window. She put down the book Hermione had lent her and quickly opened the window. A chilly gust of wind ran down her bare arms. The eagle owl quickly landed on her sill, an envelope in its beak. She took the parchment and broke the wax seal. She coaxed the folded piece of parchment from its envelope and absentmindedly gravitated the box of Owl Treats on the kitchen counter. But when she looked up from the letter, the owl had disappeared. She sat on one of the wooden stools at the counter and placed her elbows on the cool marble. As she rummaged through the mess of letters and newspaper clippings on the counter, she managed to unearth a blank piece of parchment and her favorite pheasant quill, whittled down to a dull point and battered from use.

Ginny dipped the quill into an ink bottle, conveniently opened but not saved from her less than graceful self. She began scratching a reply onto the parchment, her heart welling in her chest. This was the first Malfoy party she was to plan; it made her excited because the Malfoys were one of the wealthiest families in Britain. It was unfortunate that Draco Malfoy was also one of the biggest gits in Britain also. She folded the letter carefully and walked to the window, where she hung the cage which contained her barn owl, Marni. She tied the letter around her leg and released her into the cold, winter skies. She closed the window quickly, her fingers brushing against the bumps on her skin. She walked back into the den, collapsing into the warm armchair and instead of picking up the book she was engrossed in earlier, she grabbed a worn red notebook.

In a neat scrawl, she jotted down a few things. _Malfoy Party--February Fourteenth. _She winced at the last two words. Unpleasant memories of eleven years back began to force themselves in the front of her mind. "Fresh pickled toads," she murmured, hints of bitterness and irritation mingled in her voice.

Fortunately, the Malfoy party was the only one on Valentine's Day; she didn't know what she would do if she had to endure weeks of staring at the single color, pink, which clashed horribly with her hair as Phlegm would say.

As she mulled over ideas for a Valentine-Day-themed party, an image of the Great Hall covered with pink flowers and overflowing with heart-shaped confetti came to mind. She smirked slightly at the idea of dwarves dressed as cupids. A better version of this idea would be house-elves, she decided, especially if the Malfoys were teeming with them. Hermione would be _spewing _rants if Ginny mentioned this. She nudged her legs underneath her bottom and stared at her flat. It was considerably messy, papers spread across the end tables and a few on the floor. She taped old _Prophets _on the wall, describing her past parties and galas in great detail from the décor to the food. She stared a particular one featuring her picture. Her picture self smiled at Ginny from across the room, waving and grinning wildly surrounded by her family (including Harry and Hermione). Her eyes fell on Harry's green eyes. _Green as a fresh pickled toad. _

* * *

To her surprise, Narcissa Malfoy welcomed the idea of house-elves dressed as cupids. "Oh, yes!" she said clapping her manicured hands together. "They could walk around the room, serving food to the guests! Wonderful idea, Ginny, dearest." Ginny and Narcissa had surprisingly gotten along well; Narcissa had taken a liken to her. Thankfully, Ginny did not bump into Draco Malfoy whenever she visited the Malfoy Manor to discuss the plans of the oncoming party. It was certainly one of the largest parties she had ever planned.

"We've decided on the food…the color scheme is silver and black. Ice statues, house-elves, enchanted ceiling," Ginny rambled. Narcissa certainly knew what she wanted for the party; nonetheless, she was thankful that pink had not been mentioned once. "And…the Holyhead Harpies have volunteered to play a small match in the garden against the guests…the Puddlemere United have a match against the Tornadoes unfortunately so we had to go with the Harpies…and the Weird Sisters are performing."

"I think that's it?" Ginny said quickly.

"Yes. It sounds marvelous," Narcissa said happily. "Draco will be happy to hear the Harpies will be here. He's sold quite a bit of broomsticks to them."

"The invitations have been sent. White and black," Ginny said glancing down at her notebook. "And so far, most of the people are coming, but some replies are pending at the moment."

"You're invited, too, dear," Narcissa said kindly.

"Am I?" Ginny said amused. She would not think that Malfoy would take to it kindly. She was planning to watch from afar to make sure there weren't any glitches, but she had never been invited to the actual parties she had planned.

"Don't be silly," Narcissa replied. "You've planned it. You deserve to experience it to the fullest. And elf-made wine will be served, correct?"

"Yes, and the finest mead. And I made sure there was some Echezeaux also," Ginny said.

"Oh good! I love Echezeaux. Expensive, yes, but my mouth is craving the taste of candied raspberries and violet."

Ginny got to her feet and gathered all the papers she had spread out across the glossy kitchen table. A house-elf hovered near the table, diving for the empty plates that once harbored a spot for the cakes they ate for afternoon tea. "Tibby, will you fetch the present in the main family room?" The house-elf nodded, her ears flapping vigorously as she placed the plates into the sink and scurried through the large archway into the foyer.

"I decided to buy you something," Narcissa said a twinkle in her eye, "to wear to the party."

"Oh, but you didn't--" Ginny was interrupted by Tibby who held up a beautiful emerald dress, the color of a freshly pickled toad. She was astonished. She knew that Narcissa Malfoy had taking a liking to her, but Ginny didn't expect her to invite herself to the party _and _give her a dress. It was something she had never expected to happen, simply because she was a Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy was…well a Malfoy.

"Wow, it's beautiful!" Ginny gasped, her fingertips barely touching the silk. "You really didn't have to--I have--well, I have a lot of dresses in my closet…and dress robes, too."

"Oh, but you've helped me so much these last few weeks! You've put up with my demands and my picky taste," Narcissa said. "And I've gotten to know you and you're a very intelligent and charming young woman."

Ginny was lost for words as she stared at the silk dress, daring to finally let the silk fall through her fingers like water.

She found herself rummaging through her closet in the same dress on February fourteenth (she had made a point of avoiding Harry and the newly engaged Ron and Hermione). She was searching for a mate for the black shoe she was holding, its point knocking into her ear as she lifted the shoe. She was a mess. Her hair was half-done, the left side cascading down her shoulders in scarlet waves and on the right a frizzy mess. She was piling clothes in the corner of her room when she finally found the shoe with a wave of relief. She pulled them onto her feet and ran into the bathroom.

"Alright, Ginny," she said to herself, lifting her wand off the counter and waving it near the right side of her head. The frizz faded away and melted into red waves. But then she had a change of heart and waved her wand once again. Her hair twisted itself into an elegant chiffon. A few reluctant waves fell from the bun and sprung next to her cheek. She sighed. She was close to being late, and she needed time to supervise the party before it started.

As she filed out of her bathroom, she paused at the full length mirror hanging on her bedroom door.

Narcissa definitely had good taste in fashion. The sleeveless dress was fitted at the top, plunging into a sweetheart neckline. The skirt flared out and ended an inch above a knee. A sash was tied around her natural waistline and was knotted into a small, tasteful bow in the front. The silk felt smooth and cold against her skin, and the emerald complemented her red hair, rather than clash, like say pinks or reds. A jet beaded necklace hung around her neck, and her black pumps made her at least an inch or two taller. Ginny smiled and Apparated to the Malfoy Manor that had become increasingly familiar to her over the past weeks. She had made a point not indulging in this latest party to her family; she could almost hear the shouts of "Malfoy!" ringing in her ears.

She entered the room designated for the party. The walls were silver and black, illuminated by the sparkling chandeliers hanging on the high, curved ceiling, which was enchanted to reveal the starry night sky. Sparkling ice sculptures glistened in the corners, and the Weird Sisters were strumming their guitars on the raised dais near the sculptures. Ginny looked at her creation proudly, which was slightly spoiled by the house-elves scurrying around the room dressed as cupids.

Narcissa was as elegant as ever, donning conservative and traditional black dress robes instead of the more daring Muggle dresses. She glowed with diamonds glittering in her ears and on her bony neck. Her golden locks were resting on her shoulders in elegant curls. "Ginny!" her eyes lighted on the redhead. "You look…beautiful."

"So do you," Ginny replied. "This is one of the best parties I've ever planned."

"I'm glad," Narcissa said chuckling. "This will show the girls," she said to herself. She glanced around the room proudly and then turned back to Ginny who was beginning to feel a little out of place.

"Have you seen Draco?" she asked. Ginny had forgotten about Malfoy, the smug git. She immediately regretted accepting Narcissa's invitation.

"No," Ginny said. "I haven't." And she didn't wish too. Unfortunately, her wishes weren't granted because a tall man in black robes was sweeping across the room toward them.

"Ah," Narcissa said turning to her son. "Draco, say hello to Ginny. She planned this party, you know. She's one of the many guests."

"Welcome to the manor, Ginny," Malfoy drawled with a smirk on his lips. Narcissa hadn't noticed the smirk or the sarcastic tone Malfoy had taken with Ginny. In fact, she was gravitating toward a house-elf who was already bringing on a silver platter. "No, no, the canapés aren't going to be served yet, Futter! The guests are arriving in a few minutes. Wait until then."

"Well, Weasel. Never expected to be invited to a grand gala, have you?" Malfoy said snidely.

"You haven't really grown up, have you, Malfoy?" Ginny said wearily. "Always the same remarks about my poor family."

"Your hair is as ghastly as ever," Malfoy plowed on, ignoring Ginny. "Bright as day."

"As least I get some sun, once in a while," Ginny said, noticing a few guests filing into the room, glittering with jewels. "Shouldn't you be greeting your guests, Malfoy?" she added hopefully.

"I suppose so," Malfoy said glancing at Narcissa, laughing as she talked to an old woman. "Before they see me standing with _you_. I don't really know what Mother was thinking, inviting you." With that, he walked away.

Ginny shook her head. Malfoy hadn't changed much. She stared irritably after his silver head and walked toward a house-elf serving wine in silver goblets. She took a goblet and sipped it as she walked around, watching the awed expressions on a few witches' faces smugly. A few were muttering jealously. The Weird Sisters started a song to which a few swayed to as they drank their wine and took the canapés off the silver platters the house-elves held.

"Ah! Ginny Weasley!"

She turned around and stared at the woman, looking dazzling with her rubies encrusted on her neck. "You planned this party, didn't you? It's marvelous. Narcissa has really outdone herself this time. Do you think you could plan an event for me?" the woman rambled on. Ginny didn't have much time to herself because a crowd of wizards and witches gathered around her. She began to enjoy herself considerably, engaging the conversation around her, ranging from wine to goblins. After some time, she had an odd feeling that she was being watched. She turned and stared across the room to meet Malfoy's grey eyes surveying her. She gave him a smirk and turned back to reply to someone's inquiry about planning a birthday for their cats.

She was feeling a little warm after draining three goblets of wine. She broke away politely from the group of witches and wizards and walked through the large archway and into the huge garden, where quite a bit of a fuss was caused by the Harpies who stood impressively near their brooms. A team to play against the Harpies was being formed as several young and older wizards made their way to the front. The cool, crisp winter air relieved the burning sensation in her face. She suspected it was the effects of the elf-made wine. She noted that a silver head was among the wizards floating in the air on the opposite side of the Harpies. She watched as the match began, the crowd below in the garden yelling as a Bludger nearly threw a Chaser off his broom.

The Harpies won. Malfoy flew back to the ground, his face flushed as he walked back towards the house. She followed a few feet behind, finding herself back into the main family room, the wine drunk and the food almost gone. The house-elves had disappeared into the kitchen, save one single elf darting to Malfoy as soon as she entered the room.

"Sir!" he squeaked as Ginny drew in earshot. "Master Malfoy, Miss told Twinky to give you this!"

"Miss?" Malfoy said confusedly. He took the paper heart out of the house-elf's hands and opened it. A loud screeching voice echoed in the large confines of the room.

_His eyes are as grey as a cloudy night, _

_His face so divine! _

_Draco Malfoy is indeed my Mr. Right,_

_I really wish he were mine. _

An awkward silence fell across the room, soon broken by feverish mutters.

"Well," Malfoy said loudly, his voice echoing the room, "I didn't know you felt this way about me…Weasley."

The mutters grew louder as everyone looked around for Ginny. She quickly took a step backward toward the door, but it was too late. Everyone turned their heads and stared at her. Malfoy turned around, holding the valentine in his hands, looking quite amused.

Ginny's cheeks burned. She would've given all the money in her Gringotts vault to melt away into a puddle.

Unfortunately, she was as solid as ever.


End file.
